


Here in the Mountains, Everywhere the Sound of Pines

by delcatty_got_your_tongue



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hanahaki Disease, Kuroo Tetsurou is a Mess, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Some Violence and Death, youkai AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:26:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27225757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delcatty_got_your_tongue/pseuds/delcatty_got_your_tongue
Summary: Youkai AU. Kuroo is a nekotama who meets the tengu Sawamura Daichi and falls hard. One day he starts coughing out feathers.orThis author is simultaneously upset by the whole idea of Hanahaki disease and still felt an inexplicable desire to write a fic about it.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Sawamura Daichi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 83





	Here in the Mountains, Everywhere the Sound of Pines

**Author's Note:**

> Title after a poem by Zen poet Ryōkan. I can’t find the original text anywhere unfortunately, but I loved the image very much. 
> 
> I have also greatly butchered Japanese history and mythology here and I have no excuse except this is fic and it went where I wanted it go. 
> 
> I also love unsmooth Kuroo. He tries so hard but he has no idea what he's doing.

It had started with a minor territorial dispute. 

Inuoka - one of the youngest, a rare half-breed between a nekotama and inu youkai - had bounded up and whispered into Kuroo's furred ear about a flock of tengu that had landed near the top of their mountain.

"I'll see to it," he says, carefully bookmarking the anatomy textbook he’d been reading and setting it aside. He motions at Kai, Kenma, and Yamamoto. Small enough to be a welcome party, but skilled enough to fend off an attack if needed. 

"You're in charge until I'm back," he tells Yaku, who nods in assent, not even bothering to look from yelling at Lev to clean his den. Their newest stray the clan had picked up is enthusiastic, but still rough around the edges. Still, he will grow to be a good protector. 

They don't need to follow Inuoka's coordinates - the mountain already smells different. It all smells of ozone, as though a storm were on its way, though the night sky is clear. It only grows stronger as they walk to its source, a clearing amidst the dense shrubbery where his clan sometimes gather at night. His stomach turns, and he wonders if he should have brought a larger party with him. 

He plasters his best grin on. No good worrying the rest. Diplomacy first. 

"Be on your best behaviour, you lot," he says, looking specifically at Yamamoto, who at least has the grace to look away and nod. 

The first thing Kuroo thinks when he pushes through the shrubbery - loud enough that they can't be accused of sneaking up against the tengu - is that he should have brought more back up with him. Twelve tengus, and only four of them. 

The next thing he notices is the blood, fresh and sticky in the air. 

The third thing he notices is the black-haired, black-winged tengu who stands at their head. Their leader - not the biggest or the tallest, but unquestionably still the leader because of the way everyone else snaps to attention when he speaks - steps forward. Kuroo breathes in and the scent of the tengu rises between them. He smells of the evening sky after a spring shower.

 _Oh_ , Kuroo thinks. He instinctively wants to purr, to rub himself on the tengu. 

Kuroo stops before he takes a single step. He is not some newly turned feral cat. He can control himself. Barely. 

"We apologise for intruding on your mountain," the tengu says, bowing slightly at the correct height to be polite, but not quite low enough to indicate deference. "But one of our boys has injured himself, and we needed to land to tend to his wounds."

He waves a hand to show the smallest one - hair bright orange, leg scratched and torn, a bit of bone glistening through the gore. The orange-haired tengu swats away another black-haired tengu like a young kitten. 

"What happened?" Kuroo asks. If his voice is thicker or hoarser than usual, his clan does not seem to notice. 

"Picked a fight with the wrong demon." Kuroo has never seen a silver-haired and winged tengu before. The one standing before him is slighter than the rest, pretty, likely the one sent out whenever diplomacy talks are made. Kuroo also suspects that he's the kind to usually use whatever supernatural magics to stay in pristine condition, but his white yukata is rumpled and torn. He glances at the other tengu as discreetly as he can, and yes, it’s the same for the entire group as well, all of them sporting small wounds and injuries that while nowhere near as serious as the orange-haired tengu's injury, still needs attention. 

"We won't be any trouble." The leader extends a hand in his direction, palm open, easy, friendly, despite the tenseness in his shoulders. There are deep scratches running along his arms. "Just let us bandage him up properly and we'll be on our way." 

Kuroo hesitates. He should kick them all off his mountain. They’ve clearly been in a fight of some sort, and whatever it is might still be pursuing them. 

And yet. He can't sense anything hostile or ill-intentioned about them. Kuroo makes his decision.

"You lot all need medical attention, not just the shrimp over there," he says. "Come on. We’ll get you sorted and fed.” 

The tengu leader hesitates, clearly torn. 

"We don't want to be a bother - " 

"I'd let you know if you are." He waves Yamamoto over. "Help them with the injured one." 

"Kuroo Tetsurou," he says, shooting the flock of tengus, but especially the leader, his trademark lazy grin. He sticks out a hand to the leader. "Let's get you all patched up." 

The tengu leader doesn't smile, but his shoulders slump minutely, as though a tiny bit of all that tension keeping him upright has been released, and then reaches to clamp onto Kuroo’s hand. His grip, despite how tired he probably is, is strong. "Sawamura Daichi. Thank you for your hospitality.” 

The orange-haired tengu manages to strike up a conversation with Kenma as the group walk. It’s remarkable enough that Kuroo says it aloud, and Sawamura laughs when he hears it. 

“That’s our Hinata for you. He’s one of our newest members, but he’s got a good heart and somehow is able to make friends with everyone.” 

“So, Sawamura-kun. How exactly did your little ray of sunshine get so badly hurt then?” 

Sawamura’s face closes off immediately and Kuroo knows he’s about to deflect. “That’s a long story, Kuroo-san - "

" _We hunt down man-eating ogres!"_

The excited shout comes from Hinata, arms flailing around enough that he almost falls from Yamamoto’s arms. The other black-haired tengu, the one who hasn’t stopped hovering over him once, smacks him hard on the head and starts yelling. If they weren’t in Nekoma territory, he'd be worried about attracting the attention of other demons. 

Then he realises who they are. “Ah.” Of course, Kuroo should have seen it before. “You’re from the Karasuno clan.” 

Sawamura’s face is wary. “You’ve heard of us?” 

“You’re making quite a name for yourself," he says dryly. It’s not unusual for demons to pick fights with each other, especially the ones who are precious about their feeding grounds. But there have been rumours about the Karasuno clan in the last few years - a clan of tengu from the north who exterminate demons who have been causing trouble in the human settlements - not because other demons are infringing on their hunting grounds, but to protect the humans themselves. It had caught his attention, especially since the old leaders of the Nekoma and the Karasuno clan used to have ties. 

"So, you eat demons?" 

The smile that Sawamura flashes him is sly, nothing like the broad grins he was giving his clanmates earlier. 

"Only the bad ones," he says. 

Kuroo feels his stomach do a flip and knows he's screwed. 

The tengu leader sucks in a breath as they take another turn, taking in the surroundings with renewed eyes. "I hadn't realised we'd flown all the way to Saitama." The Nekoma den is a cavernous set of caves twisting deep within the mountain. The Nekoma clan takes the various Karasuno members to the different halls - Yaku and Kai are already speaking to the silver-haired tengu and their big bearded one. Lev is joined by Inuoka, clamouring around Hinata, and Kenma has somehow not squirmed his way out of their company despite the noise. 

It’s loud, but it feels comforting and familiar. _Feels like home_ , Kuroo thinks, a small smile on his lips as he watches how the tengus are easily folded into the chaos of his clan. He shakes his head mentally for thinking something so silly - they’re just stopping over for medical assistance after all - but then turns and sees Sawamura looking on the crowd of youkai, shoulders very slightly less tense than it was when they were walking in, a faint smile on his lips. A part of him leaps at that, wonders if it means that the Karasuno clan will stop by in the future. 

“With me, Sawamura-san,” Kuroo says before he can stop himself, tapping the tengu on the back. He tries to at least not make it too obvious that he’s inhaling deep. “Your clan will be safe here.” Sawamura nods and follows him through yet another series of tunnels. 

Kuroo's rooms are clean, as most cats are, but stacked high with books. Kuroo rummages around for his medical kit. As he smears ointment on Sawamura’s skin and bandages Sawamura’s wound, he offers the tengu a drink because he’s a good, polite host. The tengu declines and watches him warily, and Kuroo deflates a little at the expression. It’s strange, he thinks. If he were so suspicious, why follow him into the room?

“Why’d you call me into your private rooms, Kuroo-san?” Sawamura asks. Kuroo flinches a little at the directness, does his best to redirect. 

“I thought you might want to talk. Clan leader to leader.” 

Sawamura crosses his now-bandaged arms. “Talk.” 

“Yes. _Talk_.” He waves a hand airily. Sawamura’s eyes only narrow. 

“What about?” 

“How is old Ukai-san doing?” 

Sawamura blinks, caught off guard, and Kuroo decides that he likes this expression on the almost unflappable leader's face. 

“He used to visit us and our old clan leader. They were old drinking friends." 

Sawamura blinks again and then smiles. Kuroo feels his heart stutter in his chest at the expression. "Ukai-san is well. His wings are not what they were though, so he's not been able to fly long distances much. I'll let him know you asked after him." 

"Do. He's always welcome, if he can manage the visit.” Kuroo props a hand under his chin as he eyes Sawamura, figuring that directness is the best way to deal with this one. "Why do you bother killing demons?" 

“Because they hurt people. Isn't that reason enough?” 

“People get hurt all the time, Sawamura-san.” 

The tengu shrugs his shoulders. “Maybe we’re just selfless like that.” A flash of teeth, so quick he almost misses it, before Sawamura’s face relaxes into a more benign expression. “You should try it sometime, Kuroo-san. Get some good karma.” 

“Are you making fun of me?” Kuroo protests. “Me, as I sit here, bandaging you? A perfect stranger, in my private rooms? Am I not a paragon of selflessness and virtue?”

Sawamura taps his chin with a finger, and he shouldn’t look this cute, he really shouldn’t. 

“I don’t know,” the tengu says. “For all I know, you’ve still got some ulterior motives.”

Kuroo doesn’t even dare breathe, terrified that his attraction is so transparent. “You wound me, Sawamura-san.” 

“That’s alright then,” the tengu grins. “I know you can take it.” He leans back, and winces.

“You alright, Sawamura-san?” 

“Fine,” the tengu says, then grimaces again. 

“Bullshit, I know that look. Come on. Broken ribs?”

“I don’t think so, just some bruising.” 

“Let’s have a look,” Kuroo says, words leaving his mouth faster than his brain can process and hastily tacks on “I keep the medkit in my room for this reason. Sometimes, you just don’t want your clan to know how badly hit you got, yeah? Keep the morale high and everything.” He knows he’s blabbering - but Sawamura is smiling again, and sliding his arms out of his black jacket. _Oh._

Maybe he really should have thought this through because now the entire room smells of Sawamura.

“Ah,” he says, swallowing around nothing. “That does look bad.”

The bruise is already spread throughout Sawamura’s chest - his very fine chest, muscles obvious even with the discolouration blooming all over it _goddamnit Kuroo no concentrate -_ and Kuroo does his best to breathe through his mouth. It doesn’t help. 

“May I?” he asks as he reaches out a hand, and Sawamura gestures at him to go ahead. He pulls up everything he can remember from the anatomy textbooks he’s spent years memorising and presses gently against the skin, counting down the ribs under his breath as he goes. 

“Did you hit a wall, Sawamura-san?” 

“I fell,” the tengu says curtly, and one doesn’t become a provocation expert without knowing one’s boundaries so Kuroo doesn’t press it. Then the tengu hisses. 

“Fifth and - " Sawamura hisses again - “Sixth ribs broken. How the hell have you been just sitting there?” 

“It’s nothing.” 

“If this had shifted any more you’d have a piece of bone in your lung, you idiot.” 

“We heal fast, Kuroo, we’re demons, remember?” 

Kuroo sucks in a breath and counts to ten. “Right. You’re about to get some of Kuroo’s special treatment because I am a paragon of goodness.” 

“That _does not_ make me feel any better - _ow.”_

Kuroo clenches onto Daichi’s arm to keep him still, then presses his palm into the bruised skin. “Just hold still for a sec, will you Sa’amura-kun?" 

His hands prickle and glow as he concentrates, and the warmth spreads out from his palms to his fingers, to the skin underneath him. It takes a moment, but he _sees_ the lines of the bones in and nudges the broken bone into place as the dark purple skin slowly lightens, turning pink and yellow before becoming a normal healthy tan colour. He exhales, feels the wave of exhaustion crash over him “There we go.” 

“You’re a _healer?_ ” 

“A very minor one but - "

“Why aren’t you healing _Hinata_ \- "

“Because I’m still new at this and haven’t really tried it on anything more complex than a cut on myself before and I’m really not comforta - “

“You haven’t - so you were experimenting on me?” 

Kuroo yawns. "A broken leg? Easy enough to set from the outside with a splint. This though - if it had healed wrong you’d be stabbed in the lung every time you breathed and then healed and then be stabbed all over again. Didn’t think you’d like that.” Words are hard, he thinks, and yawns again. 

“You’re tired,” Sawamura says, oddly hesitant. “Did that… Did that take a lot of energy from you?” 

Kuroo drags himself onto his bed and closes his eyes. _Just for a minute,_ he thinks. “Imma take a nap,” he mumbles, inhaling deep and the whole world smells of Sawamura. He could die happy like this, he thinks. “Don’t wait up for me Sa’amura-san.” 

When he wakes a day later, Kai tells him that the Karasuno clan have left. Kuroo just says “I see” and then later finds the note Sawamura had left in his room thanking him for his hospitality and telling him to drop by Miyagi anytime. He leaves behind a feather as well, and Kuroo can’t help but smile as he presses it to his nose for days after. It takes a week for it to lose his scent. 

Kuroo expects to never see Sawamura again after that, really. He doesn’t need a random tengu to change the course of his life and question his reason for being here - even if said tengu was cute and was a responsible clan leader and smelled infuriatingly good. A variable like Sawamura Daichi just isn’t something he needs in his life. 

He keeps up with his studies. Keeps his clan out of trouble. Toys with the idea of taking a human identity and enrolling in a human college, once he knows he can pass on his clan leadership duties to the young ones.

The seasons pass. He wanders down from the mountains to Tokyo for a weekend - it’s something all the youkai do, have a look at what the humans are up to from time to time. Handheld game consoles were received with great success, as was ramune candy and copies of Shounen Jump. 

Kuroo collects books but always remembers to pocket treats for his clan. The nekotamas like modern inventions enough, but the sight and smells of a city are overwhelming to their senses, and they avoid it when they can. 

It’s probably how Kuroo ends up missing the smell of hostile youkai, until it’s too late. 

“Well, well. Look at the kitten come to play.” 

He’d ducked into an alleyway, hoping to change quickly into a cat and hide out somewhere but the alley turns out to lead into a dead end. The oni blocks the entrance of the alley, muscles rippling as he shifts through his human skin. The oni’s eyes gleam red as he grows and grows and _grows_ until he completely towers over Kuroo. Despite himself, Kuroo feels a chill run down his spine. This is an oni that has devoured other youkai. He doesn't have high hopes of shifting into a cat fast enough to escape. 

“I don’t have any kind of quarrel with you,” Kuroo says, raising his hands slowly. “I’m not hunting here. We can settle this peacefully.”

The oni licks its lips with an overly long tongue. “It’s been _so long_ since I’ve tasted cat. You trickster types are hard to find.” 

Kuroo sighs and pulls off his backpack of souvenirs and his jacket - he’d hate for them to be ripped apart in this fight - and carefully sets them down by the side of the alley. 

“So we’re doing this then.” 

He blinks and _shifts._ Claws and fangs come out, sharpening the same as his senses. He winces slightly as the sound and smell of the city hit his brain like a truck. He focuses on the demon instead, willing his senses to hone down on the one enemy. 

_Oni._ Simple enough - take off its head and burn the remains. 

He wishes he has backup. Sends a silent prayer to Kenma and the rest of the clan that he will make it back. 

There’s a flutter of wings from above and a thump from behind him. _Not more oni_ , he thinks and then catches the scent of a familiar tengu. 

“Oh, for heaven’s sake - _Kuroo!”_

 _“ ’_ sup, Sawamura,” Kuroo says casually as he dodges an incoming slash that would have taken off his jaw. His heart is pounding against his chest - from the adrenaline, he tells himself. Because that would be the sensible thing. 

“I’d been tracking this one for _days_ ,” Sawamura says exasperatedly as he steps forward. “How did you just _happen_ to stumble across the most dangerous demon in the entire prefecture - "

“Maybe I’m doing this just to get your attention,” Kuroo’s mouth says before his brain can catch up, and then he instinctively ducks as a large fist comes crashing into his direction. 

“I’m not sure that was very bright Kuroo-san, since this one is fighting me for it at the same time.” Sawamura’s produced a wakizashi from nowhere and is carving up the oni’s arm with it. Not to be outdone, Kuroo dives low rakes his claws down the side of the oni’s leg, who howls as he crashes down to the ground. 

_Archilles tendon and medial gastrocnemius torn_ , he thinks smugly. 

Then - “Sa’amura!” 

The tengu has left himself wide open as he twists his body back to put more force behind the swing and the oni - fast, too fast for his size and for the fact that he has a leg is out of commission - is already reaching to tear Sawamura open - 

and Kuroo is there instead, has just enough time to throw up a barrier so that the oni’s claws do not reach too deep and tears his flesh open instead of completely ripping him apart. He hears Sawamura’s wings flap as he cries out Kuroo’s name, then there is a thunk as the oni’s head flops on the ground. 

“Kuroo - fuck - "

“Gotta burn it,” he slurs. “Before it comes back.” 

The body is already twitching. He won’t be surprised if it gets back on its feet in a few minutes to look for his head. Cannibalistic oni are ridiculously resilient. 

Sawamura’s face is frantic, twisted up in worry. “I don’t have gasoline on me.” 

Kuroo barks out a laugh - _barks_ , that’s funny his addled brain notes - and snaps his fingers, wincing as he feels the magic dissipate from his body. Black flames spring to life around the oni’s corpse, and the bones merrily crackle in the heat. 

“You can control black fire?” Sawamura asks, incredulous. “Why didn’t you do that _from the beginning?_ "

“Not a good idea to set a living thing on fire,” Kuroo slurs as he slumps down on the ground. He presses down his chest experimentally. Nothing broken, he thinks, but he needs to stop the bleeding. “Might spread elsewhere. Easier to control when it’s a corpse.”

“What other tricks are you going to pull out of your sleeve?” Sawamura demands, huffing as he kneels in front of Kuroo. 

_I don’t have any left,_ Kuroo thinks but says “Like I would give up all my secrets to you” if only so Sawamura can keep looking at him like that, torn between exasperation and admiration. “Help me take my shirt off, will you?” 

“Right right, sorry.” Sawamura reaches to pull Kuroo’s black T-shirt off - blood already drying and sticking to his skin. He hisses when he sees the wound. 

“I was handling it fine,” Sawamura admonishes, taking hold of Kuroo's T-shirt to press onto the slash marks firmly. “You shouldn’t have jumped out like that for me.” 

“ s’fine Sa’amura-san." _I’m a healer, not a fighter_ Kuroo means to say but what comes out of his mouth is “I’m a lover, not a healer.” 

Sawamura’s nose wrinkles in disgust. “Well, at least I know your brain is still functioning. If that can count as working.”

Kuroo wants to die from embarrassment. But he’d already expanded so much energy and magic into making sure the mad cannibalistic oni is dead and to heal up his body it feels like a waste to die now. 

“That was my favourite T-shirt,” he whines out loud instead, trying to fixate on his poor, ruined shirt instead of the fact that he keeps fucking embarrassing himself every time he opens his mouth and making poor Sawamura uncomfortable. 

“You can get another black T-shirt,” Sawamura says with the same patient tone he uses when talking to the particularly rowdy members of his clan. 

“ s’not the same.” He’d owned it for the last two decades and had worn it down until it was perfectly soft. He closes his eyes, thinks _fuck it_ and shrinks down into his cat form. 

It’s not because he doesn’t want Daichi to see how red his face is. Really. 

“Kuroo?”

“Use less energy this way,” he explains sleepily. It's true enough. “We’re even now, Sa’amura-san. Since you saved me and all.” 

“You mean you saved _me_ , you mangy cat.” 

“Woulda died if I fought it alone. Thanks. Just need to… rest little in this alley for a bit.” 

Sawamura laughs and picks Kuroo up, cradling him to his chest. Kuroo feels the vibrations all the way in his body. “Sleep tight, Kuroo-san. I’ll get you home.” 

“Don’t forget my stuff.” 

Sawamura grumbles something about how fussy he is, but reaches for the jacket and backpack anyway. 

He can hear Sawamura’s wings take off, a lurch in his belly as they get in the air, and then falls asleep, inhaling the tengu’s scent and feeling warm and safe. 

Kuroo is hardly surprised when he wakes up in his bed, bandaged and alone, his favourite T-shirt laundered and folded next to him. The shirt smells entirely of Sawamura, which confirms his suspicion that he’d been the one to clean and fix it. There’s a note next on it, covered in Sawamura’s now-familiar scrawl. _You’re cute as a cat_ it says and he doesn’t stop blushing even after he’s shoved the note in the same drawer that holds Sawamura’s feather and the last note. 

It’s summer when they next meet, at an annual festival the mountain-dwelling youkai hold. It’s barely changed over the years, only that the youkai today sometimes wear jeans and T-shirts instead of yukata. Bright green orbs foxfire glow amongst the trees, casting light without burning anything down. Store owners hawk their wares - fruit and candy and snake eggs and little magical trinkets to take him as souvenirs. 

Kuroo scents Daichi the moment the tengu lands, even amongst the throngs of other youkai. 

He’s _not_ being creepy, he thinks, as he follows Daichi’s scent. He’s _not._

(He'd survived an entire season of smelling spring rains and thinking that Sawamura was there but turning to find that he is still, unfortunately, very tengu-less.)

 _“_ Kuroo-san!” 

“Hello, Sawamura-san."

Sawamura is wearing a new kimono, indigo dyed so deep it is almost black, orange yabane patterns laid on top. He has a traditional tengu mask hanging around his neck, the wooden face red and fierce, thick brows painted to look exactly like Sawamura's. 

He looks handsome. Kuroo wants to tell him that he looks handsome but instead what comes out of his mouth is “Well, you look less like something that the cat dragged in." 

Sawamura's nose wrinkles in a way that indicates disgust and shouldn’t be endearing, but somehow is. "And you look less like the scruffy leader of a pack of mountain cats, but there we go.” 

Kuroo pretends to clutch at his chest. “You’re such a charmer, Sawamura.” 

“You assume I’m trying to charm you.” 

“I know you are." Kuroo slips an arm along the tengu’s broad shoulder and counts it a victory that Sawamura doesn’t shrug off the contact. “What do you say about checking out the festival together?” 

He can almost feel the gears in Sawamura’s head spinning in motion. “Can’t. Have to look after my clan and make sure they don’t get into trouble - "

“No fighting here, Sawamura-san. Festival rules. Relax for one night, will you?” 

He feels the tension go out in Sawamura’s shoulders and knows he’s won. “Fine.” 

“Part of being a leader is knowing when to take a break.” Kuroo knows he sounds like he’s nagging but it’s worth it to see the tengu roll his eyes. Sawamura mumbles something under his breath, and Kuroo is fairly certain it's something obscene. He counts it as another victory. 

"Well." Sawamura crosses his arms, looking like the picture of reluctance.

"Well?" Kuroo repeats, wondering if the other tengu knows how enticing his neck looks when he tilts his head like that. 

"Show me around then, Kuroo-san. Unless you have something better to do." 

Kuroo grins. “Oh Sa’amura-san, if you wanted my attention, all you needed to do was ask. I’ll always make time for you.”

Sawamura rolls his eyes again, and really, it’s the cutest thing. 

The next morning, Kuroo doesn’t remember much about the festival itself but has three things seared into his memory: that Sawamura’s favourite food is shoyu ramen, that he’d been human before he became a tengu, and his laughter when Kuroo trips over his feet and falls into a pond is now Kuroo's favourite sound in the world. 

Things, Kuroo think, are good. Sawamura drops by every once in a while when he’s flying in the area. He goes over and visits their home in Miyagi in the warmer months. They banter and go out for food together, sometimes with their clans in tow, sometimes alone. Sawamura enjoys his company and seeks him out willingly for all his teasing, and he’s perfectly happy with where they are. 

Then the feathers start showing up. 

At first, he just assumes that they're Daichi's. The tengu visits every once in a while now that they’ve developed a friendship - is it really a friendship, Yaku says, rolling his eyes when they squabble about something inane like whether or not tofu counts as a liquid - and even though his glossy black wings are always stupidly sleek and healthy, they _must_ shed every once in a while, right? 

Then they show up even though he's cleaned his rooms twice since Daichi's last visit. 

It finally hits him over dinner, like a fist to his gut, when he has a coughing fit in front of the entire clan. 

"Well, fuck," he says in disbelief at the pile of regurgitated feathers and hairballs around his feet. Feathers he distinctly does not remember swallowing. 

The clan leaders call an emergency meeting. 

“Hanahaki,” Yaku says shortly, exchanging a glance with Kai. 

“I didn’t ask for this!” Kuroo flings his arms up. 

“Well, the solution's simple enough. Just go pay Sawamura a visit and tell him you’re in love with him, and he can carry you off into the sunset.” 

Kuroo starts a coughing fit that takes several long minutes to recover from. The feathers are beginning to outnumber the hairballs.

“Firstly, Yaku, I don’t recall asking you, and secondly, whatever makes you think it’s _Sawamura_ , and thirdly even if it was, as though it would be _that easy_ \- “

“What other black-feathered tengu have you been hanging around with?” Kenma asks. He’s technically not part of the clan leaders’ yet, but is here anyway because of how close he and Kuroo are. He’d put away his video games and everything - this is how Kuroo knows he’s serious. “Sawamura will be jealous if he knows.” 

Kuroo’s stomach does a familiar flip. Stupid Kenma and his observation skills and their centuries-old friendship and Kenma's uncanny ability to see through him. “ _Fine._ Even if it _is_ Sawamura, it doesn’t mean that I can tell him anything!”

“Why not?” Kai asks.

Kuroo splutters. Does he have to point out the obvious? "Because! It'd make things weird between us! And the only known cures for hanahaki is if the feelings are returned, right? Or if they go away. Either way, neither is going to happen and I'm just going to be stuck coughing feathers until I kick the bucket." 

"For someone so smart, you can be so stupid sometimes." Kuroo can feel the weight of Kenma's judgement in every word and has to actively work not to flinch. It doesn't help that Kai and Yaku just nod along, as though Kenma is _right._

He visits an old medicine man after days of Yaku bugging him about the stray feathers he keeps leaving around the caves. There are feathers everywhere, a growing pile of them gathering in a corner of his room. (Kuroo has learnt that while the feathers look like the ones that Sawamura leaves behind on occasion they smell nothing like him and he doesn’t have the heart to burn them all.) Kai finally offers to drag him to the medicine men in that mild pleasant manner he has and Kuroo promises that he will do something about it - _no_ not tell Sawamura are they _mental_ but he'd see a medicine man, alright? 

The closest wise man to them is one who has lived in the forests for so long and becomes so much a part of it that no one is quite sure if he is human or demon anymore. He’s rumoured to be knowledgable about all kinds of demon ailments - the ones that don’t really exist in books because most demons rely on their long memory and not actual archival work to preserve their understanding on important things like disease (It pisses Kuroo off something strong, the absolute inefficiency of demons and is why he’s been collecting and writing medical books but he can’t do it all alone.) 

"A tengu, huh." The old man rubs the freshly coughed out black feather between his fingers. There’s a growing pile at his feet. His face is such a mass of wrinkles Kuroo can't make out an expression. 

"Anything I can do about it?"

"Well, you're just going to keep spitting out feathers until you die." 

"Thanks, old man." 

"Or you could tell this tengu about your life-threatening feelings for him." Kuroo squints at him, wondering why all of the stories about this old man had gushed about his sage wisdom and mysterious magical skills and why none had mentioned his sass. 

Also, he’d come all this way to get advice, not hear someone else repeat what Yaku and Kai and even _Kenma_ have been telling him. Why couldn't anyone give him something _useful?_ "Isn't there a spell?" Kuroo begs. "Some kind of herb or medicine that I can take to make it go away?" 

The old man hacks a laugh. "You could stop loving him." 

“Thanks, old man.” 

“You know the usual things that might help - stop thinking about the tengu, keep a distance, and this illness may pass you and you might still live a long and healthy life. Hanahaki is a poorly documented youkai affliction, and most of those affected are reluctant to speak about it. Too embarrassed maybe, like you.”

Kuroo rolls his eyes only after he’s left the old man’s hut and given his offerings because he’s at least polite and knows not to offend demispirits to their face, but he rolls them all the same. 

So Kuroo does what he’s best at. He studies the symptoms of his disease and notes it down. 

_Day 27 of Hanahaki. Coughed twenty-six times. Feathers weighed 300g. Thought of Sawamura three times, each time leading to a coughing fit -_ that kind of thing. 

It only serves to show how much it steadily worsens, the numbers increasing each day. 

He wonders if he could get someone to dissect him, figure out exactly the root of the disease. With his youkai powers, it could be done while he is still alive. He thinks. If the surgeon is skilled and careful enough.

"Why don't you just _tell him?_ ” Yaku demands for the hundredth time. 

“Kai, you’d be the leader when I leave, or maybe you might want to think about handing over to some of the younger ones, I think they’re ready - "

“No. _No we are_ not _having this discussion - "_

“Aww, come on, Yaku! I’d be the first demon to finally track down all the elusive symptoms of this strange disease! Think of this great contribution to science!”

“You’re just marking down all the ways you’re dying, you moron! Do you think that makes any of us happy?” 

“Kuro.” Kenma speaks up in his soft voice, but everyone in the room strains to listen to him anyway. “If you’re not going to call him over, I will.” 

He knows he can’t stop any of them, not in the state he's in. He doesn't have much longer to go anyway. “Whatever.”

When he's confined to his bed, steadily coughing up feathers that are now flecked in blood and bits of gore, he wonders why he couldn't just say something to Sawamura, when he still had the energy to travel. It's not as though the tengu has ever been responsive to any of his flirtations before anyway - wrinkling his nose each time.

He'd really rather not hear an outright rejection from Sawamura, he thinks. 

And he knows Sawamura would be plagued with guilt for the rest of his life if he even thought that he'd played an indirect part in Kuroo's death. It would kill the ever-responsible clan leader, Kuroo thinks, and really, it isn't Sawamura's fault that he can't return Kuroo's feelings. So no, he thinks firmly. Not telling Sawamura is the best possible decision. 

It sucks though, he thinks, as he spits out another mouthful of feathers, his bed covered in sweet and bits of gore and all too fucking empty. Some nights, he's weak enough to wish that Sawamura would at least hold his band before he dies. 

_Ah well,_ he thinks. _I've lived long enough anyway._

Then there's loud stomping outside his room one day, a knock that sounds like it’s really there more out of habit than actual politeness, then his doors are flung open. Sawamura's face is thunderous, almost as red as the tengu mask he’d worn during the summer festival, his wings raised and bristled as though he's readying for attack.

" _When,_ " he growls dangerously, "Were you going to tell me?"

"Oh, Sa'amura-kun." Kuroo raises a hand and waves it airily, even though it feels like there are boulders resting on his limbs. “Nice to see you too."

The tengu silently holds up a single black feather looking like he is _this close_ to strangling Kuroo. Kuroo hopes he really isn't going to do anything because he's too tired to fend off an actual attack. A sneeze from Kenma could probably knock him over, with the way he feels right now. 

"It's not nice to shed in my house, Sawamura."

"For fuck's sake." Kuroo flinches a little. He'd never heard the tengu swear before. "Kuroo. You're dying."

"Death is but an illusion." 

A vein throbs along the tengu's temple, the same one that appears whenever Hinata and Kageyama fight, and Kuroo wonders if Sawamura actually would throttle him, shake him until his teeth fall out, and he wonders what's wrong with him that he thinks it's not a bad way to go. Then Sawamura's face seems to flit through a whole range of emotions, from anger to exasperation before finally settling on sadness. 

"Why are you such a moron?" 

Kuroo is doing his best to keep his eyes open - really, it's _hard_ but he'd do it for Sawamura. So he thinks he must be seeing things when the tengu pops the feather in his mouth and swallows. 

“Sa'amura?" 

Sawamura reaches for Kuroo's face, warm calloused hands like hot mugs of tea against his skin. "You moron," he says again, face pressed up close enough that their foreheads are bumping together. "Did you really - were you seriously going to _die_ instead of saying anything?" 

" 'm not going anywhere, Sa'amura." The words come out of his mouth in ragged pants. 

"Like hell you're not." 

Kuroo's about to ask what he means, then Daichi bends down to capture Kuroo's mouth in a heated kiss, holding him still while he moves firm insistent lips against him. 

"Mmmmpfh - " Kuroo tries to say, but Sawamura pulls away just long enough to mutter "just shut up you mangy cat" and then slips his tongue in his mouth. 

Sawamura kisses Kuroo like a drowning man looking for his next breath of air. He kisses Kuroo like the secrets to the universe might be found in his mouth, if it were thoroughly explored and searched by his tongue. Sawamura kisses him like he doesn't ever want to stop. 

But of course, that could just be Kuroo projecting.

When Sawamura finally pulls away, they're both out of breath, chests heaving hard. It's still the best Kuroo has felt in months. 

"Kuroo - " 

Kuroo turns and hacks a cough, then another, and another. The room fills with black feathers until he finally spits out a quivering lump, feathers and white quill-like stalks wrapped around it like roots. 

"Is that - " 

"Yeah." Kuroo hangs his head, unable to meet Sawamura's eyes. "I love you. I'm sorry. You don't have to say anything, but I'm glad to see you again before - " 

"For the love of - " Sawamura picks up the lump - still caked in gore and flecks of Kuroo's insides - then raises it into his mouth and swallows. 

_No,_ a part of Kuroo screams. _Science! That ought to be studied!_

But also _Oh. What does that mean?_

“Sa'amura?" he croaks instead because the tengu is looking at him with an awfully serious expression. 

"I love you too, you dumbass. I have for _years_." Sawamura licks the blood flecked on his hands - _his_ blood, Kuroo thinks absently - until it is clean. 

“Wait, so." Kuroo blinks. "So that wasn't a pity kiss?" 

Somehow, Sawamura manages to look even more exasperated. Which isn't fair, Kuroo does need to check, just to be sure. "Did that feel like a pity kiss to you?"

 _No,_ Kuroo wants to say, while his mind shrieks _W_ _hen did you start how why can I please call you Daichi_ but what comes out of his mouth is "I don't know, maybe we should do it again so I can figure it out." 

Daichi just rolls his eyes. "I don't know why I expected you to say anything different." 

"We both know that you're just a sucker for my charms, Sa'amura."

"Heaven help me," Daichi mutters, but he's leaning close again. "I am." 

**Author's Note:**

> I first got the idea for this fic back in August, and just never got round to finishing it. There’s a lot of world building I have for this AU in my head but never got round to writing but you know what this is DONE now and I can hopefully move on to other fics. 
> 
> I cannot take credit for the tofu is liquid line - that was in Chapter 11 of pepperfield's incredible Kurodai fic (still unfinished, but you can’t rush greatness), check it out. https://archiveofourown.org/works/6157870/chapters/65862790#main


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